


Comet, Impact

by bowblade



Series: Thirteen Effect [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIII Series, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-08-29 22:55:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16753024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bowblade/pseuds/bowblade
Summary: Serah leaves Earth, and makes an unlikely acquaintance or two.(All types of people pass through the Citadel, with their own unfolding stories. Perhaps you'll meet them again someday.)





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Continuing on with my first meetings/important relationship beats, as this is the next _big project_ I'll be working on when I wrap up some other things. I would say it's a revival but it's never really gone away, as I'm always somewhat thinking about this nonsense, heh.
> 
> A (now) three parter, because this became a lot longer than I was expecting, and hey, I actually posted it all in a timely fashion since I sat down to write it after editing the first part and finished the rest fairly quickly (and did some more worldbuilding, and figured out details for some other stories in this universe whilst I was at it). I'm stunned, honestly.
> 
> Serah and Noel are the focus of the first two chapters, with Snow and Serah for the third.

Leaving Earth was easy.

It was easy because her sister had made it so and Serah knew what to do. She might not have been effectively thrown out of the house before, but she knew the roads to the spaceports, the transports to catch, and the familiar scenery she'd see on the way, given that she'd been off-planet enough times. 

The difference this time was that her suitcases weren't just packed for a week away in space somewhere. This time she had packed up her whole _life_ , and was taking the barest minimum of her material ownership with her – not that she had much to begin with, anyway. The Farrons were sentimental but minimalistic creatures, and throughout her life Serah had only ever bought what she needed, something with a use. She applied the same principle here; she'd only take what she'd need. Only what she'd want or miss. 

That meant clothes, make-up, photos and plush dolls, packed up into neat yet spilled-over piles, seamlessly transferable from one life to the next. She'd miss her hand selected oven, but it wasn't like she could _carry_ that, and once she got to Eden Prime she could just buy another, or make do… she wasn't picky about her kitchen space, and neither could she afford to be when her funds would only take her so far. Heck, she was blowing the majority of it on the trip over. Despite the colony being extremely keen to hire in a teacher fresh out of an Earth university and to cover her initial rent, they weren't going to be that forthcoming when it came to her travel expenses. 

Serah had expected, and known that, though. This was all her choice. She wanted to go, she wanted to pay her way; she wanted so many things that had come and gone, always something bigger at stake. Serah was no stranger to sacrifice. But this time was different.

She'd just… neglected to mention her life-changing decision to her sister, because it felt like something she should do in person, and Lightning's in-person availability was sporadic at best. And now? Serah wished she had just told her on a call, what with her last memories of home forever marred by Lightning's stoic expression as she pushed her further and further away, all the while still managing to suffocate her. _Still._ It never changed. No matter what she did or what she learned, that she was grown up now, and able to make her own choices. Lightning generally meant well, gave her everything she needed, but…

She couldn't do this anymore. Lightning's overbearing, protective and stubborn grip only told her what she already knew – that she had to spread her wings, take her own steps and make her own mistakes. 

There was an entire galaxy out there, and it was calling her name.

She wanted _more_ out of her life than to just be the sister of Commander Farron.

And if her sister couldn't accept it, so be it. _So be it_. Her lack of a blessing couldn't, _wouldn't_ , stop her. It hadn't. Serah's lip had quivered and the tears had threatened, but she'd held her head high as she'd retreated to her room – suitcase open on the dresser, contents spilling out, clothes in a raggedy line from wardrobe to floor to chair – and flung herself onto her bed, where she'd sobbed silently into her pillow.

She had never wanted to crush a part of her soul in order to go.

It's not enough to make her stay.

Claire probably thought her dictation would stop her sister from leaving. Instead, it had only fuelled her resolve; but Serah had allowed herself to cry about it where not even she herself could see. It wouldn't have been a lie to say she had hoped, maybe, possibly, distantly, that her sister would see her off, maybe even as far as the Citadel… and they'd promise to see each other soon. That she'd check in with her every day, that she'd fill her in, that they'd never really be apart in anything but distance. It was a silly, foolish hope, as their relationship breaking down had already happened, years ago.

The reality was far from any idle daydream. Lightning brusquely avoided her, long gone the next morning when Serah had planned to catch a cab and there were no promises, no goodbyes. Her goodbyes had instead been given to a sweeping glance of the baby pink walls in which she'd spent so much of the last ten years.

Admittedly, Serah had cried a little in the cab, too – leaving Earth was easy but leaving home was _not_ – telling herself it would be the last time she'd cry over this. And for the rest of the day, it was the last time. It was mechanical, and Serah was well practiced at burying her feelings and telling herself and her sister that she was ' _okay_ ' – and the small bubble of nausea induced excitement had come back in full force by the time the transport had left the Sol system and arrived in Widow.

Docking was quick, thanks to nerves and pacing and wading out into the Wards with imagined purpose. That was the thing: leaving Earth had been easy because she knew where she was going and what she was doing. Not so much from here on out. 

Everything had been arranged, she'd told Lightning – well, Earth to the Citadel had. It wasn't like she knew where the docking bays were, or if the embassies would clear her in time for the transport she wanted…

It was all new, uncharted territory, and that was just as wonderful as it was terrifying.

In retrospect, she probably should have mentioned her worries to Lightning. Or even just asked about procedures; as an N7 and a marine, Lightning knew more than a mere technically inclined and resourceful citizen ever would. If their parting had been different, she might have… still, perhaps it was better this way. Serah had wanted to do this on her _own_. She'd been to the Citadel once before, just shy of her eighteenth birthday, and walking through the Wards brought their own hazy memories, quietly coupled with the feeling of that same unstoppable stubbornness that so often possessed her sister, like she could take on the universe and win. She was glowing, radiant: bouncy. Finding her feet wasn't a problem. She was starting her new life, and nothing could take that away from her today.

Not even the swarms of people, the noise, the foreign sights and sounds. None of it, and the Citadel welcomed Serah into its everyday.

Really, life was going on around her in a surprisingly ordinary fashion for such a momentous day as leaving your home planet. She walked past crowds of Alliance marines on shore leave, other Citadel residents heading for Chora's Den, merchants and consumers of every species from Salarian to Turian to Volus to Hanar with every ware she could imagine and then some, even one guy who was very insistent about returning a toaster oven. This experience wasn't a novelty to them. Some of it wasn't a novelty to her, either – it was familiar, comforting, even if she was an outsider to it. This was how the people of the Citadel spent their lives… well, maybe not the guy with the toaster oven… and she was just another human, passing through to who knows where.

That last thought did make her feel a little lonely and insignificant, though it was quickly banished. There was time to stop and ponder later once she'd been to the embassy. Maybe she could snag some sightseeing time. It wasn't like she knew when she'd be back this way… no point. Home was ahead, not behind.

Thanks to a helpful C-sec officer, finding the embassy wasn't too difficult. The line, however, brought its own challenge. Though Serah was a twenty-something, five foot four individual who was tenacious and smart enough to get where she wanted, even she couldn't wiggle her way out of waiting in the slowest moving line she'd ever had the misery in having to stand in. Every minute dragged, agonising, and was doing a number on her enthusiasm. She was pretty sure she'd inspected every thread of the woman's blouse who was stood in front of her by the time said woman was called forward, and she had nothing to do but stand and stare into space, clicking her tongue from boredom as the VI apologised for the delay for what felt like the millionth time.

Maybe she should have installed a book or two on her omnitool before leaving instead of letting the files rattle around somewhere in the bottom of her suitcase…

"Miss Farron, please approach booth three," the VI interrupted its own steady stream of platitudes as a clerk became available. "Miss Farron, please approach—"

Serah jumped to action, not needing to be told twice… but was stopped short by a camera that did not care about her personal space blocking the front of the queue, followed by what she assumed to be the camera's owner.

"Wait, Farron? As in _Commander_ Farron of the Alliance, triumphant hero of Elysium and the Skyllian Blitz?"

The bright light of the recording device shone in Serah's eyes and she squinted, but that wasn't the reason for her wince. This was far from the first time someone had recognised the name, caught a glimpse of hair, and jumped to the conclusion, which was usually be followed by—

"Not her," the reporter – for she had to be one, likely dogging the embassies for a scoop on a slow news day – informed her device. She certainly sounded disappointed, but Serah knew what would follow next. Always did. Every time. True to her prediction, the reporter's attitude immediately shifted as her eyes lit up, and Serah braced herself for the inevitable, her prior excitement seeping out into the floor which she longed to disappear into herself. "But the _sister_ will do. Miss Farron! Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani, Westerlund News. Would you be willing to give us a short interview?"

There was no willingness in any of Serah's mannerisms. She tried to turn away, shunning the camera, but either the reporter was ever hopeful or simply failed to read basic social cues if it denied her a story. Probably both.

"Um, thank you, Miss al-Jilani, but I'm actually…" she gestured towards the waiting clerk, ignoring the glued eyes and the whisperings of the line behind her.

The reporter waved her hand dismissively. "Say no more. We can make this extremely short."

"I don't…"

The reporter wasn't looking at her, already tapping through her omnitool for a list of questions Westerlund News had likely been dying to ask the _real_ Commander Farron, but had only ever received her stock answer of 'no comment'. Serah wasn't an amateur when it came to dealing with the press, and though there were a million other things she'd rather be doing she could manage them well enough: and when it did happen, it was usually commentary agreed beforehand with Amodar to make her sister more appealing and likeable. The day following an argument that had led to her leaving Earth? This was hardly a good time. Maybe someone would ask eventually, but… on camera? For the public? It was the last thing she had wanted from today, to be pinned to her sister, to have to paint her as a hero and a saviour. 

Her mouth tasted sour. She really, really didn't want to deal with this. Not today.

Serah exhaled with forced calm, standing tall, which wasn't very much. "Miss al-Jilani, this isn't a good time…"

"Miss Farron, if you'll indulge me with a quick question—"

"She said she's not interested."

For half a heartbeat, Serah thought it was Lightning that had interrupted.

It wasn't. And yet, someone had indeed stepped in to be her saviour… or just to reinforce what she had been saying all along.

She recognised the timbre, the echo, as the individual slid past her peripheral vision and into view. Not a camera or a pushy human reporter, but a tall, lean back and the ensuing carapace, towering above her.

For what was her first time seeing a turian mere inches away, she had never expected it to be the back of one; and neither one that had just so happened to intervene at the right time. Serah peeked around her ally to the reporter – she looked annoyed and had a steadily descending frown, flabbergasted at being interrupted, so she assumed her new turian acquaintance was staring said reporter down in order to get her to back off.

And she was backing down, to Serah's surprise, retreating with a garbled mix of _'I can find a better story than this'_ and _'the Farrons are notorious for no comments anyway',_ her camera following with a slightly more distinguished huff and twist. With her departure, the garnered onlookers returned to their prior activities, be that the queue or otherwise.

The turian didn't leave. He sighed, unfolding his arms, and as he turned, Serah assumed what passed for a smile crossed his face. He seemed… very young, much younger than the turian generals she had been in proximity to at miscellaneous Alliance events and parties, and also notably younger than the turians she'd seen down in C-Sec, not that she'd paid much mind to presuming their ages. 

His eyes did remind her of every marine she'd ever met, though. Whoever this turian was who wandered around human embassies, he was not unfamiliar to hardship.

"Are you alright?"

Serah realised she had been dithering and nodded, gathering herself and her things up again. The VI chirpily announced that two more booths were now also free. "I'm okay." It was a stock answer, and she chewed on the corner of her lip as she thought of how to improve it, or if even if she should. Today was a new day. She should be more upfront about how she felt. "It's been a… pretty hectic day emotionally, I guess."

Still vague, but he understood, nodding. "Don't tell me. Being accosted by a reporter was bound to happen, huh?"

"Something like that," she moved forward, no longer blocking the queue as two people behind her rushed past – but she didn't go towards the clerk who was waiting for her just yet. "Thanks for the assist."

"Anytime," the turian smiled again, as short lived as the last. "I can't stand it when they act like that."

He was making to leave, returning to his business, just as she was – and for whatever reason, Serah suddenly realised she didn't want him to. Not without—

"Wait," she turned back. He hadn't moved. "I should thank you properly. This shouldn't take long, and after…"

"She won't come back," he assured her, not that the thought had until then crossed her mind. But he didn't seem to disapprove of the notion. "I can wait. I have some time to kill."


	2. Part 2

It wasn't difficult to find her turian friend again, as he hadn't gone far.

As promised, he waited, gazing out over the balcony that overlooked the Presidium, reverently occupied with his own thoughts. He was still silently musing and nursing that trouble when Serah left the overhelpful clerk and returned to his side – said clerk seemed bursting to ask about her sister, but had reigned that excitement in after the display with the reporter, and the occasional glance at the lingering turian.

"Hey," he said, adjusting his cross armed lean over the balcony to turn to face her instead. "Found what you were looking for?"

Serah nodded, holding up her arm and her omni-tool, device flashing faded orange. "Yep. Transport approved." 

That afternoon, even. Just a few more hours and she would truly, completely be on her way; the final step toward her new life. 

It was strange to be between lives now, a middling space where she had not expected much to happen, or to lay down any sort of ties. Instead, she'd requested a helpful bystander to remain to repay a favour, and remain he had; he'd known her little more than a few minutes, and yet he was smiling and nodding triumphantly, sharing in her success, as someone who she might have known for years would. Equally, Serah knew she should probably be more cautious when it came to intent, and trust would take time to build, but…

She couldn't help it. She liked this strange turian already. It was in her nature to like people, and though she didn't have a great many of her own friends that hadn't been made through Lightning's connections, and none really of note that she had left behind on Earth, this was just another change. From here on out, she would build her own bridges. She would help others. She would make a difference.

She would trust her instincts.

Serah smiled in return, catching. "I'm Serah, um, Farron, by the way… but you probably knew that already." She sounded sheepish, even to herself. The Farron part was famous enough, she figured, even without the Westerlund reporter having exposed her.

The turian shrugged, elongated limbs making it extremely fluid, though his arms remained folded. "I don't pay much attention to whoever the latest lauded hero is," he said absently. It wasn't a complete disregard of the subject, though, as he followed the remark with a frown at himself for his own disinterest; whatever he felt, it was coupled with misgivings. "Don't really care for trends, either, so maybe that's just a me thing."

"Really? It's far more difficult to stay out of loop than in it, I think. I'm always finding myself on the extranet when there's time to pass."

"Don't have that sort of time," he said, shaking his head. "Not really used to… doing nothing at all. There's always something going on. Today's a first."

"Sounds like my day," said Serah, empathetically. A first, huh? Though much of her time had always been empty, and she was used to occupying herself with endless distractions… she felt that last part more than he could ever know.

Or maybe he did. He smiled again, and this time it held. "Yeah? Wish I knew of a human saying for that coincidence, Serah." Of all the people to run into… he hadn't said it, and she was no expert at turian expression, but she could see it, felt it too. "I'm Noel. Noel Kreiss. And yes, before you ask, I was born in the Earth month of Christmas. My mother had a sense of humour."

Alright, so she had immediately begun to wonder at such a name, the thought half formed, but she knew not to ask; perhaps most humans he had met lacked the self restraint to keep the thought to themselves. Or maybe it was other turians that noted how very un-turian like his name was, so now he just got the inevitable commentary out of the way by saying it first. Both plausible. She didn't have the heart to correct him about the month itself _not_ being called Christmas, but… honestly, what with the endless advertisements and songs and vids and whatever else that surfaced sometime in July, December might as well be petitioned to be called Christmas.

She chuckled to herself, lightly. "I see," she said, enough of an admittance that the notion might have crossed her mind. "It's nice to meet you, Noel."

"Same here," he echoed, and to her surprise, took apart his stance and held out a hand for her to shake. 

It was a very human gesture, one that she did not expect him not to know, but had decided against doing herself, as most other species she had met were bemused at that aspect of human culture, or insulted by it; sometimes it was better to do nothing, or allow them to initiate whatever greeting their people used, or whatever they were most comfortable with.

Noel was still standing in place as she worked through how unexpected it was for him to offer it, and he frowned at her lack of returning it, second guessing himself. "Is that wrong?"

"No," she said hurriedly, snapping to. His shakes were over enthusiastic whilst hers were more reserved, and after a moment, he matched the tempo. Clearly he didn't know as much about the custom as he had first appeared to. "No. With all my dealings with the Alliance and other species, I've just learned to be a little more sensitive about it."

"You'd be right," he agreed. He seemed more relaxed, and, satisfied that he'd done the handshake adequately, withdrew. "I'm just… branching out, I suppose. Call it a recent interest. I should _know_ these sort of things before… well. Today's a little late for learning, but I've still got some time."

He seemed confident – a steady self confidence, even with that brief flash of panic and anxiety at being unsure, on the edge of something big that he had no idea how to prepare for, and all he could do was try to anticipate. For him, it also made him extremely talkative and keen to share, now that he had a willing listener. There was no stopping it, now it had started. It was a very familiar feeling, particularly when she was still experiencing much of it right now. It was unlikely he was leaving home to teach and start over, but she could relate to the array of confused, muddled emotions, if naught else.

"That's lucky though, in a way. To be able to try to improve on how it's going to go, I mean. I don't think there's much I can do for me until I leave the Citadel." 

Noel might have raised an eyebrow, or what passed for it. It was hard to say, even if tilting his head was a little clearer. "Shared nervousness?" he suggested.

"We're a right pair," she grinned. "Y'know, I still need to pay you back for earlier…"

Noel shook his head, modest. "You don't have to worry about that. It was the right thing to do."

"Most wouldn't. And I'm more grateful for it than you know," Serah admitted. Of all days for someone to step in and do the right thing, she was glad it was this one. 

It was hard, sometimes, to separate the personal feelings toward her sister, to spin bad qualities into the good ones the Alliance used to sell her. Dealing with the press was practiced, as was painting her sister in a specific light, and accepting the way things were for so long, but… patching up that same relationship would be harder, if ever. She knew Lightning well enough to know it was unlikely she would come around, and even if she did, she'd never admit it aloud. Too proud. Too ashamed. It would be up to Serah herself to fix it, to make amends. She shouldn't have to, and yet… that was the likeliest outcome.

Not now. Not soon. Things were strained and Lightning would not believe unless she saw hard evidence, and even then it would be touch and go. The best way forward, really, would be to prove herself. Not to say that she was right and Lightning was wrong, never, just an undeniable display that she was indeed capable. To _show_ her sister that she was capable of living independently, of making a difference, in her own small way. It wasn't as flashy as being a war hero, but it had its own share of trials and challenges.

It was still a life worth living.

And for Noel to give her a little more time to deal with her sadness and her anger, to keep to herself and _be_ herself just a little longer, and not be associated with her elder sister as the one who believed in Commander Farron the most… it was freeing. Messy, but freeing. A reassurance that she was allowed to feel that way.

Sure, he hadn't said it directly. But he just had that kind of presence. Soothing.

"So," she continued, as Noel contemplated a way to combat that without prying, but came up short, waiting for her to continue so he'd have more material to work with. "I don't have much, and I'm largely out of credits, but… food?" She was pretty confident about finding somewhere; she was extremely adept at locating things, even restaurants that would accommodate for differing dietary requirements. She'd assisted with the planning of a whole slew of Alliance get togethers, after all. "Or anything else that you need. I insist."

"There's nothing," he repeated. He seemed amused at her persistence, though, and then his expression changed. Embarrassed, she thought. "Unless… uh… what would you… I mean, you'll probably have a better idea as to what a girl would like than I do…"

He trailed off. Serah's mind had a whole plethora of options to work with at such a half-question, but the way he asked it… she doubted most of them were true. This was not a sudden ask for relationship advice.

She thought about it a little more, coming to a safe, logical conclusion. "You're meeting someone?"

He nodded. "A charge… an asari, I think. I was hired to look after her. She's just some kid, and I wanted to break the ice when I meet her, because she—"

He couldn't find the words.

Serah knew, though.

She smiled, bittersweet, her own words soft and kind.

"She would be just as nervous and maybe scared about meeting a stranger for the first time?"

"That exactly," Noel agreed after a moment, raising a talon to punctuate the thought. "Any ideas?"

Plenty. There were so many things. Material things. Edible things. Half-hearted gifts and those you put more thought into but might still miss the mark, because you had no idea as to their interests or their sentiments. Kids, however, were somewhat simpler, and also far more challenging. And yet… for a young girl, alone on a space station without her parents, meeting someone new, who they'd been told would protect them and they wanted to believe it, but didn't quite feel safe…

Safe. That was really all there was to it.

She had just the thing.

She ducked down on the concourse, approaching her overpacked suitcase tentatively. With one less thing, it'd probably close again more easily, if its contents didn't go flying everywhere in the process.

"Serah?" Noel queried, quizzical, just as she braved the lock.

"Hold on a sec," she requested, rummaging around her possessions with as little of the case exposed as possible. It should be near the top, where she'd put it last, as an afterthought, when she realised it was a part of home and her childhood she didn't want to leave behind on Earth, one less sentimental thing for her sister to remember her by—

"A-ha!" she smiled, weaving her hand back out again, with what she had been looking for. "There you are."

It was a doll, with a chubby, oversized face complete with a bright red nose in its middle, the head sat upon a disproportionate body that was white, but faded, for it was also old and started greying some time ago. 

Serah stood upright again, turning the doll toward Noel as if offering it to him, so that he could see it better. "What about something like this?"

Noel scrutinised it for several long seconds, likely falling back upon limited knowledge of Earth animals and coming up short as to what he was looking at. "It's… a pig? A cat?"

"No," Serah laughed. She could sort of see the markers for the resemblance, but… no. "It's made up. It's from an old Earth show for kids about creatures called moogles that lived in a forest… on a comet, or something, in a pocket of space. I watched it a lot when I was little. They were always getting up to mischief and going on adventures with their princess."

"That sounds fantastically impossible," Noel said. The raised eyebrow expression was back, but he shook his head. "But also: getting hung up on the wrong thing. A moogle, huh. I guess it has some appeal."

"Right. And I think your charge would get more mileage from it than I would."

Noel straightened. Then he blinked, connecting the dots. "You want to give this… are you sure? We could just find a store somewhere—"

He would have kept going, had Serah not shaken her head immediately to protest it.

"It's… not that important. I could probably make another one for myself if I wanted to…"

She looked away. It wasn't quite a lie. She didn't need it anymore, not like she used to.

But, in terms of importance—

It really, _really_ was.

Her earliest memories… they involved her parents, but she couldn't recall them personally, no more than concepts, no clear idea as to their faces nor their voices. She remembered the moogle, though. She was fairly certain they had given it to her. It was something she had never gotten around to asking Claire; hadn't needed to. As for the moogle, she'd called it Mog, her mouth struggling around the distinguished syllables and by the time she'd been old enough not to fuss at them, that was just its chosen name. Mog had been with her and her sister on the streets, when Lightning had first been gifted a home, and her sister had fixed him up countless times over the years. It was frayed and patched, and the bobble pom was worn and the purple bat wings were one stitch away from falling off again and the glass eyes weren't shiny anymore, but…

"I don't know the circumstances," Serah started, slowly. She hesitated only a second more, dragging herself forcibly from the past and her memories as she ran her fingers over the doll's stout fabric ears. "But, if she is alone… she'll need a friend. And Mog? He made me feel safe and happy when everything around me was changing. Maybe he'll help her too, y'know? And it's a more personal present than something store bought. A gift from me to you to her."

She was jumping to a lot of conclusions, she knew. There was no knowing the why, and though she could ask about it, it wasn't her place. Maybe Noel himself didn't know. Whoever she was, this girl had to be important. Why else would a young turian be hired to take care of her? Why else would the exchange happen here, on the Citadel? Placed upon a pedestal and a ploy in a much bigger scheme—

She was thinking about Claire again.

Maybe it was just an assumption. But Noel had said enough, asked, and it felt… like the right thing to do, to pay the kindness forward, to someone else who was also passing through the Citadel on their way to a new future.

The best thing about Noel, she was quickly learning, was that he knew when not to pry. He didn't know everything about what she was going through, and she didn't know everything that he was dealing with; but he also didn't need to. In just her mannerisms and words, he could see how important it was to her that he take the gift – and there was only one question left for him to ask.

"Are you sure?" he repeated. A loaded question. It was not too late for her to back out and change her mind if she wanted.

No. Today was a new day. She would mould it for herself, with her own hands; choices and a future of her own making. No regrets. This was just one among countless, something to wonder about, to know that she had helped someone, in her own way.

And also because she wanted to.

Serah nodded. "Yes."

The buried answer was what Noel had been looking for, it seemed.

"Then I'll accept it," he declared, and she handed it over to him. He wasn't quite sure as to how to hold it, but his grip was decidedly delicate, and a single talon tapped the lolling pink bobble as it swayed from the momentum. 

Despite first impressions, he seemed to be growing fonder of it. Serah knew from experience that the moogle clan had that sort of effect on people.

"And I should probably get moving," he added as an afterthought, looking up. Likely nervousness again, now that he'd solved the self-imposed problem and run out of distractions.

A sentiment she could share. There was still time to spare, but… she had to find the transport, check-in, familiarise herself with the itinerary and what she'd drawn up for herself, maybe oh, have an hour of time to wait when she got there…

"Me too."

"Maybe I'll see you again if you're back this way?"

"Yeah, maybe," she said. She didn't plan to be, and she doubted he'd remain for long, either, but she did genuinely mean it. Now wasn't the time to build upon what could easily become a friendship; they had other obligations. Other things they needed to do or be doing, for now.

But impressions, once made, were not so easily undone. Positive ones could be just as lasting as bad ones, maybe even more so. Maybe life would indeed throw them together again.

After all, tomorrow was now a mystery instead of decided; and always, always new.

Serah smiled to herself as he pocketed the doll, and she reached for her suitcase, the both of them ready to depart.

"Hey, Noel? Good luck."

"Thanks, Serah," Noel said, relieved. "You too."


	3. Part 3

Running the transport to the Citadel hadn't been his idea.

Well. Planning the ins and outs of the shipping lane from Eden Prime was far above his paygrade, so no, it wasn't his idea, wasn't even his _job_ , per-say, but it had to be done. And with the usual guy calling in sick, it had suddenly become his problem and _someone_ had to do it. 

That someone was him for two reasons.

First, he was the only one qualified and familiar enough with the SHIVA series to fly the passenger transport to the Citadel without incident. The ship itself was notoriously temperamental, although personally he had never had a bad experience with her; his friends said he had the magic touch, or something. 

He doubted it. Maqui was the engineer, not him. Maybe they just said that to flatter him, or to butter him up into offering first without them needing to ask.

Secondly, that was incredibly easy to do, as Snow was somewhat of a pushover. Ask a favour and he'd do it; didn't matter what it was. He'd go out of his way to get you out of a jam and solve the problem with himself, even if it meant he was pulling double duty, or getting simultaneously praised and yelled at by his superiors for his initiative and also his stupidity for never really thinking that far ahead as to the repercussions. For instance, this time he had to do multiple supply drops by the end of the day, and he hadn't even started those yet, and his boss would probably want to ring his neck _again_ for not delegating better… whatever. That was _future_ Snow's problem, he figured: current Snow was happy that everyone else was happy and that the 'stand in, run transport myself' solution was going swimmingly.

Right. Maybe running the transport to the Citadel _had_ been at least a little his idea, but it was a good change of pace. The ship behaved, and Snow had passed through space in the blink of an eye, relay to relay, stopping only long enough to marvel at the expanse – dust and clouds and colour wrapped up into something truly inspiring.

Seeing space like this never got old. He almost didn't mind being relegated out of deployed, active duty for the Alliance to a less than heroic but still needed job when he got to see so much of the galaxy freely; and this way, he could stay on Eden Prime. He could stay with his friends and protect the people he cared about, not that the wildlife was all that dangerous. He could even take impromptu trips to the Citadel when the situation called for it, like now.

The Citadel was always more hive than home, but Snow loved that aspect of it. The memory made Lebreau cringe whenever any of them brought it up, but perhaps it was because he had the natural distance, that his stay was only ever temporary, that meant he could appreciate the Citadel in all its buzzing glory. Everyone had somewhere to be. Everyone had a story. There was always something happening, the Citadel always awake and always alive, and even if he was confined to the fringes out of necessity, just watching it unfold… it was humbling, in a good way. A reminder of his insignificance but also his potential, what they and he as humans were capable of, that limits meant nothing.

Chronic positivity. It was one of his defining traits, and Snow was not so blind to not have noticed that it annoyed some people. But he would never change. There were those that relied on it, like his friends, his allies in a firefight. He could always manage to talk a team back up again.

Today was not so exciting, but he had his part and his role that wouldn't have happened had he _not_ taken the transport out, so that was that. There were a handful of people he was taking back to Eden Prime, he knew, one a last minute addition called in by Yuj, although the teen hadn't been able to read Gadot's scrawled note stickied to the top of a pad, so all they knew for sure was that it was some teacher the local school had hired. 

Much as Snow loved his home planet, he couldn't imagine anyone coming willingly to such a backwater from _off_ -planet nowadays. Even on the Citadel he could see it, and he imagined Earth to much the same. Everything was so… convenient. What he'd grown up having to work for? Here, it was taken for granted. No getting stuck in with the community to make sure you'd have food on the table that night, no turning round a harvest, no being first generation colonial born and still learning things about the rock you called home under your feet…

It was a reminder that humans were still so new to the galactic race. In all the vids Earth was so advanced; to be somewhere so slow and rustic was quite the opposite. It would be quite the adjustment, and this teacher was braver than he was. He wouldn't like to do it backwards.

Still. The local kids would be excited about a new face, likely ready to pepper their freshfaced teacher with endless questions about wherever they had come from and the galaxy as a whole. Hearing about stuff you didn't know could be exciting, and space had always sufficiently been one of those things, particularly now that humanity knew there was indeed more out there. Hopefully this curious stranger would be up to that challenge, and all the others that Eden Prime came with.

They'd be finding out the answer soon enough, once everyone was on board.

Loading passengers largely took care of itself; opening a door and welcoming everyone aboard over the loudspeaker whilst he coaxed the SHIVA into its journey home. Two consecutive runs in a row increased the risk of a problem, but Snow knew all the tricks, all the countermoves, and if the ship had a personality, it seemed to know not to play its usual bothersome role when he was around.

The only thing he did have a hand in was sweeping the craft's exterior and double checking everyone was aboard at scheduled departure, which he liked to do in person. Sure, he could check the feeds, but he found it always made anyone flying with him more relaxed to know that he was approachable, be it Alliance or citizen, stranger or comrade. On runs like this, friendliness went a long way to settling the nerves of the faces he didn't know, those who had never taken the trip before.

The cabin was laid out as Snow expected. His half dozen passengers had politely sat on separate rows, no one adjacent, most already absorbed in respective omni-tools. The last of them was still standing, effectively obscured by a massive suitcase they were struggling to lift into its designated compartment as was requested by the sign pinned to the wall, but was not really all that necessary with the shuttle so empty… still, safety conscious was never a bad thing to be, he supposed.

He strode over to them as they wobbled, grunting defiantly as they repositioned the weight for another attempt, and as they did, Snow reached out to assist, taking hold of either side.

He could immediately tell why they were having trouble. This case was… robust. _Heavy._ Sometimes his stature and muscles had their uses, he had to admit.

"Careful there," Snow said with a smile, though it was unlikely they could see that with such extensive luggage between them. "Need a hand?"

The case owner sighed back gratefully, knowing that now they could defeat their current bane. 

"Thank you..." The voice was distinctly feminine, soft and sweet, and even with those two words he found himself wanting to hear her say something else, to affirm the thought. "Having to carry it? Not something I accounted for."

Yeah. Still sweet. The hint of sarcasm and the smallest laugh at herself for her lack of foresight…

"No problem, with the two of us," he said confidently. He could almost hear the returning smile he had yet to see in person. "Ready? Up we go—"

It was a gradual reveal as her arms lifted over her head, and though Snow had been concentrating on the task at hand, the scant, couldn't-be-helped glance changed all that. Her hair was faded rose falling over one shoulder, the very corner of her lip tucked in at the effort, her eyes bright and focused, deep and sad and thinking…

She was—

She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

And then, the pair of them successful and the suitcase stowed, she—

Smiled.

It was bewitching. Her smile locked him into place, and Snow could feel his heart clenching and running away in double time, floored at her presence, that _look_ , her everything.

Admittedly, he was something of a romantic, but—

He had never believed in love at first sight. Not until now. Not until she brushed strands of hair from against her skin and back into place, and smiled further, at _him_ , and she had his heart completely.

Who was she? He had never seen her before. Just scanned a list of names and none seemed perfect enough to match up to her. The pull was so undeniable and he had nothing to do but look, feeling a schoolboy flush creep up onto his cheeks which he quickly tried to fight away.

"I'm Snow," he said after a moment, quieter than his usual boisterous self. "I'm your pilot today."

He was parroting his usual spiel on the comm, one he had already done, and he mentally kicked himself because _what kind of introduction was that_ , stupid, idiot, just ask what her name is—

"I think I heard you before," she said, her hand briefly gesturing up to the ceiling in lieu of something physical. "Do you make a habit of checking in with your passengers?"

"Usually. Helping people is…"

He wanted to say it was a hobby of his, the right thing, but she was still looking at him with those same, thoughtful eyes. As for his own thoughts? They had packed up and exited the building of their own accord, leaving him looking like an inarticulate fool.

At the very least, she seemed endeared, knowing what he had been aiming for. 

"I've had a lot of that today," she said, when he didn't continue. "Helping. I'm glad. The universe would be an awfully scary place without us looking out for each other."

She meant it in the general, but it was still a blow to his heart, and he could hear the growing thud in his ears. Again. _Again_ he had fallen in love with her, at that ideal that he also shared; she could be anything and anyone, but the power over him was final. He couldn't tear himself away. Like any princess, she had his heart. She could command him of anything and he would likely do it.

That was fitting. Princess. If she didn't give him a name soon, it might become irrevocably attached. Even with one, the association would not so easily be broken.

"I've thought that too."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm," she said, which could mean any number of things. Perhaps re-evaluating or further informing her own impressions of him – he could only hope they were good ones.

All the while, her gaze never left his face. Whatever else she was thinking, she was also in the process of deciding something.

He waited.

"I'm Serah," she said at last.

"Serah," he breathed.

It was perfect.

Serah…

Serah.

_Serah._

She was all he could think about as he returned to the SHIVA's controls in the front compartment, contemplating what she might be doing to occupy her time, or why she was going to Eden Prime, and that he should probably be concentrating on flying, and not watching the cabin feed the entire time for another glimpse of her…

The communications link crackled, distorted due to distance. "Hey, Snow. You setting off back yet? Boss is making the rounds and I can imagine her getting on your case if you don't hustle your way back here pronto."

Out of everyone, Snow immediately knew it had to be Yuj. His tell was that he had none; Lebreau was professional, Maqui was endlessly excitable, and Gadot was gruff and deep and nearly always indistinct, no matter how clear the connection became.

"About to," he said. Not that he could request clearance to disembark with Yuj on the line, but he didn't mention that. There was something far more important to tell his team, first. "Is everyone there with you?"

"Uh huh," Yuj yawned. Various affirmations filtered through the static. "Break. What's up? Gadot wants to know if you need some encouragement."

"You wish," Snow grinned. He might have risen further to the taunt had his mind not been so preoccupied, and had he not been so eager to share. "Listen. Guys? There's this girl. And I… I think I'm in love."

"Is that _really_ Alliance approved comm chatter?"

Lebreau this time, having successfully grabbed the headpiece given the ensuing 'ow!'. From her reaction alone, it was pretty clear what they thought to his statement collectively.

"You don't believe me, do you…" he sighed, the lovelorn sigh that better belonged in romance novels. "Figures."

"Would _you_ believe you?"

She had a point. If Lebreau had asked him that question an hour ago… probably not, no. "Fair."

Yuj laughed, the ownership of his mic retrieved. "What can change in one flight, man? You saw someone and that's that? Instantly falling in love?" Each word was stressed. He was probably shaking his head at him in disbelief right now. Silly, charming Snow, stumbling into whatever thing most suited him, sincere but easy, nothing ever fully considered. "It's ridiculous is what it is." 

"It's not," Snow assured him, all of them. "You'd understand if you met her… you will. She's on the flight. She's homeward bound to Eden Prime."

He stole a glance at the monitor, at Serah. 

He couldn't wait to talk to her again.

Snow's answer was more to her, than to them.

"I'm serious about how I feel."


End file.
